


Conjugation

by Leyenn



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/M, Marriage, Porn Battle, Telepathic Sex, Telepathy, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-01
Updated: 2011-08-01
Packaged: 2017-10-22 01:57:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/232453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leyenn/pseuds/Leyenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's their day, and they just can't help themselves. Written for the Porn Battle XII, <i>wedding</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conjugation

Pink is her color, he thinks, somewhat giddily as he pulls her into an empty room and captures her mouth with his. If she has to wear a dress to their wedding, then he's happy - hell, he's ecstatic - that she chose this one, because she looks beautiful and elegant and utterly, utterly ravishable.

Deanna laughs under her breath, her voice a whisper as she breaks from his mouth, her hands playing across the lines of his dress uniform. "I'm glad you think so."

"I've always thought that about you." He's allowed to say ridiculously trite things like that today. "But the dress is beautiful, too."

"Thank you." She melts a little as he nuzzles her neck, that sensitive spot he knows very well and that's been teasing him ever since he first saw her today, with her hair up like this. "Mmm..."

"We're _married_ ," he whispers in her ear, intoxicated by the scent and the feel and the presence of her, feeling entirely like they're back in Jalara all over again.

She leans into him and whispers it back, conspiratorial, laughing. "I know. I was there."

"No one ever mentions this part, though."

She smiles. _Which part?_

He grasps her hips through the dress, pulls her in hard against him. _That getting married is such a damn turn-on._

Deanna laughs again. "I think that might be just us." She slides her hand down to his belt. "How long do you think we have?"

"Half an hour, if we're lucky." He tests the weight of her skirt with one hand: it's surprisingly heavy, but they can work with it. The unfortunate thing about having another ceremony back on Betazed is that there are no telepaths at _this_ ceremony, so projecting their preoccupation and intense desire to not be bothered for a while isn't going to do a damned lot of good.

On the other hand, it's their wedding day, and if someone notices they're missing, together, and still happens to come looking, then that's entirely said someone's own fault.

There's little in the way of options in this room, an unused function area - possibly the only one left - but they've never had trouble figuring these things out when they have to. Deanna hooks her fingers into his belt with a playful smile and walks back toward the closest table, pulling him with her - not that he needs any encouragement, most especially when she's smiling up at him like that.

Getting his uniform open is easy between them, since she's just as familiar with the thing - from both sides - as he is; working out how to get around that dress is, despite his optimism, a little more difficult and ends in both of them laughing, the left strap of the thing pushed down from her shoulder as he kisses his way along her collarbone and just lets her sort out getting that voluminous pile of satin out of the way. She's not wearing anything underneath it, which doesn't surprise him, and helps the situation immensely; the satin is soft when he leans into her, at least, but then he reaches down and runs his hand along the inside of her thigh, and her skin is even softer. She wraps her legs around him and he slides two fingers slowly into her, watching the look on her face just because he can, because he'll always take the time for that, and because he loves seeing what it does to her.

"Oh..." She gasps softly, leaning back, pushing her hips against his hand and her eyes slip closed for just a moment: but in that moment she's luminous, so beautiful he can barely believe it - that she's his _wife_ now, and that this is all real, just about takes his breath away.

 _That feels so good,_ she whispers in his head. _Mmm..._ and then _oh_ and he frowns, very slightly - there's nothing but pleasure and love and such happiness in her mind, but that was a definite feeling of... something.

He holds still, two fingers pushed completely inside her, and rubs his other hand gently against the back of her neck. "What? What's wrong?"

Deanna smiles at his confusion, shakes her head and reaches up to rest her hand against his cheek. "You're wearing a ring," she says softly, and he stops worrying and grins like an idiot, presses his ring finger harder against her.

"So I am."

She laughs softly, slightly breathless herself, and brushes her thumb across his lips. Against his back he can feel her fingers move as she touches her own ring, the ring he put there not two hours ago, turning it around her finger. "It feels good, doesn't it?"

He pulls his hand back, slowly; though she tries not to feel it, knowing what's coming, there's the faintest sense of loss, and he leans down to kiss that away as he guides her hips into the right position to do this at this angle.

"It feels right," he says, between kisses, and Deanna smiles _yes_ and runs her fingers through his hair as he slides into her, easy and smooth, and she presses against him and leans into his mind. "I love you," he whispers against her lips, because he wants to say it out loud at this moment, today of any day, as she tightens her legs around him and he starts to move slowly inside her. "God, I love you," _I've always loved you, imzadi, so much._

 _I know._ She smiles into his mouth, moving with him, finding that rhythm easily. _I love you, too,_ and he can feel it and her and himself in her and he's so glad that they have this - that he can not just tell her but show her how he feels, that he can share everything she feels for him in return, _everything,_ warm and golden and incredible beyond words the way it always is. The way it always has been.

"It was never going to be anyone but you," he whispers, with unbridled honesty, and the way her breath catches at hearing that is the most beautiful thing he's heard all day, up to and including _I do._

 _Oh, Will._ She buries her face in his neck and holds onto him tightly, breathing hard against his skin, and he knows she didn't say that out loud because she can't, around the sudden tightness in her throat. _Oh, imzadi..._

He smiles, kisses her hair - very carefully, since he's under strict orders not to mess it up - as he picks up the pace a little, and Deanna moans appreciatively into his neck and rocks with him. They've had this same rhythm for years and it works perfectly, especially when she's so deep inside his head: all the sensations just feed off each other, being inside her and _having_ him inside her, shared love and joy and pure carnal pleasure - he _she_ wants her _him_ so much, _yes, god, so much_ \- and they're so intertwined that it's impossible not to come when she does, equally impossible to tell where he ends and she begins or to even care.

It takes a minute or two, after, for the room to come back into focus; when it does, and he thinks they're both steady enough, he rests his forehead against hers and moves just enough to slip out of her, closing his eyes for a moment against the feeling. "Mm. You know, if we could just beam up right now..."

Deanna laughs, though he can feel her agreeing with him completely. He sighs and reaches down between them, but she bats his hand away; he smirks, puts his hands on her hips instead and lets her do the work of tidying him back into his uniform. It's not precisely comfortable, but at least Deanna's gentle and can feel what she's doing, and he can beg off for a few minutes to deal with it later. When she's done with him, Deanna slips down off the table and lets her skirt fall back down, smoothing it with both hands until she doesn't - from her clothes, at least - look like she's just been thoroughly ravished by her new husband. He settles the strap of her dress back into place, taking the opportunity to stroke her shoulder just because he can. Even if he couldn't pick it up from her, he'd be aware he's still grinning like a fool as he wraps his arms around her. _That was..._

Deanna's smiling, too, like she doesn't know how to stop. _I know,_ and she does; he doesn't doubt that. He never has.

"We should get back out there," she says, though he can feel the emotional tug of her reluctance to move out of his arms. "We don't want to miss the Captain's speech."

He grins. They do have something of an advantage there. "You really think he'd start without us?"

She shakes her head at him and reaches up to tidy his hair back into place with her fingers. He stands still and lets her work, but when she's finally satisfied, he can't help leaning down for another kiss. Deanna laughs softly and puts a finger on his lips.

"Don't tempt me," she murmurs, sounding pretty tempting herself, and just a little desperate. He kisses her fingertip instead; she smiles, and puts her hand in his to walk back out into the fray together.

  


*

  



End file.
